


Taste

by YoyoIlluser



Category: Once-ler ask blogs, The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Alcohol, Biting, Blood, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, heavily implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:37:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoyoIlluser/pseuds/YoyoIlluser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a drunken state, Onag wanted to taste Swone's lips...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

When all the movies had been watched, and empty wine glasses, shots, and bottles where all that remained of the alcohol consumed, littering the floor and awaiting stumbling footsteps come the morrow, Swone would start talking. It didn’t matter what the topics were about, he would just lean against the worn back of the couch, his words slurring out in a string of what could vaguely be described as sentences, drowning the silence that both of them wanted to ignore.

    Slumped lightly to the side, an elbow propped on the arm of the couch the only savior to keep his drooping head from slipping into the cushions, Onag would listen. At least he would always start off listening. Heavy eyelids blinked away the haze of sleep as he watched Swone, childishly fighting his own body’s natural desire for rest,  and focusing as intently as he could muster on what it was that was being said, regardless of how mundane or pointless a subject he found it to be. He’d listen and watch till he could no longer decipher the words out of the drumming hum of Swone’s voice, becoming nothing more than an inaudible buzz of sound with moving lips.

     He’d always end up staring at those lips. Not that it was his intent from the start, but Onag would find his eyes slowly drifting down Swone’s face till they stopped, of their own accord, on those moving…Invitations.

    Perhaps it was the alcohol, the over abundance there had been at the start of the night, or it might have even been the hour, given that one’s brain clouded into obscurity when sleep was deprived, or simply it was sheer curiosity, but Onag wanted to taste those lips. Not just taste, no, it was more than that. Lowering his arm gently as he sat up, Onag pulled himself closer to the man beside him, eyes never wavering even when Swone stopped abruptly mid sentence and regarded Onag with a look of annoyance at personal boundary intrusion. No indeed, he wanted to devour those lips. Mouth opened slightly as Onag pressed his forehead against Swone’s, the other Once-ler going ridged, gloved hands clutching at the couch with enough intensity to sink into the old fabric.

    Considering himself a vegan tried and true, Onag still crashed into those lips with his own and knew right away that he loved how they tasted. The flesh, tangy and flavored with the remnants of wine, was like an aphrodisiac that called to him, growing stronger each time he sucked on those delicious lips. He could feel Swone squirming underneath him, trying to break it off, but Onag still wanted more. Drunk off the alcohol, and the taste of those lips, olive green gloves slid up and buried fingers into Swone’s hair, tugging back till Onag bit down on his bottom lip. The hiss that escaped from the man beneath his mouth was the most pleasurable sound he had heard all night.

    And Onag wasn’t done there. He worked on those lips as if starving, biting and torturing them with his teeth. His body weight sank Swone into the cushions, hands moving from dark locks to slide along the familiar suit that was every bit an image with what it meant to be a Once-ler, though Onag had secretly always favored the black touch that Swone used. He had already loosened the tie when Swone bit back, Onag tasting the coppery tinge of his own blood as pointed teeth cut deep, and it came at such a surprise that the man on top hesitated. They both paused, staring, lips entangled and hot breath beating against their skin, when with a garbled moan Swone closed his eyes and began to massage his mouth on the blood covered lips that were still pressed to his.

    With that, everything but the gloves came off. It didn’t matter how carefully the clothes were removed, ties were pulled and chucked to the floor, jackets were ripped from shoulders and pants tangled against legs as they stripped each other, all the while their mouths stayed locked in an endless battle. Ignoring the burning in their chests that was their lungs aching for a real breath of air, teeth and wounded lips continued to ravage the other, moving from mouths, to chins, to necks, sucking and nipping at sensitive points that left both of them gasping with small cries of pleasure as they pressed heads together, fighting for who bit who next.

    Pushing himself up with his elbows, Swone narrowed his gaze at the man on top of him and snarled against his neck, teeth sinking into the flesh. In response Onag pulled on him as he leaned back, clutching Swone by the shoulders and falling into the cushions on his side of the couch, hands running red streaks of pressure along the now topping Once-ler’s skin. Gloves remained the only things they wore as touches were exchanged, covering fingers and giving them both a sense of feeling loss, the lack of sensitivity making strokes rougher, grips tighter, and every press on the skin hard enough to bruise.

    Licking red lips, Swone spread his legs till he was straddling Onag, hands massaging the smooth chest presented before him, one that was more built than Swone cared to admit out loud. It was obvious that the point of no return had been reached. Both knew, and could feel, the cloud over both their minds that made all this even a possibility, and any more hesitation would not make what was to come in the morning any less awkward. Any less painful. And yet, with temptation all too sweet a taste, right now it was easy to drink up the urges and continue. Clutching at Swone’s hips, a smirk twitching its way along his face, Onag dug his fingers in as he sat up, forcing his captive back. Claiming lips once more, even as the mouth beneath his gave in again to the embrace, Onag jerked Swone up, no tease, no foreplay on the matter, and pushed himself inside.

    Tearing away from the liplock, Swone tilted back his head as soon as he felt the pressure, letting out a moan that slipped between clenched teeth, whispering from an already ragged throat. There Onag ran kisses along the exposed neck, all the while pumping him up and down as Swone clawed his body, digging himself in deeper with each thrust.

    “Sw…one…” Onag lingered the syllables against skin in between touches of his lips, the name being repeated again and again for every kiss. “Swone…Swone…Swone….I lo-“

    The snarl that rumbled up from Swone’s throat, as well as the abrupt way the man jerked back from Onag froze the words on his tongue, and grey blue eyes shifted to face him, now staring back with those ice colored orbs that were usually so well hidden behind black shades. Shades that usually concealed everything.

    “D…on’t.” Swone mumbled, his voice cracking as he breathed out the word, pressing his sweat plastered forehead to Onag’s, hair tangling together in a mess of black and brown. It was the only thing he said, moving then to touch swollen lips against a slightly open mouth, Onag’s reply locked up in a kiss that increased in force, as if Swone refused to allow the other Once-ler the chance to let out anything else, anything more. 

    With a shudder that was half emotion slipping down his spine, Onag clenched Swone to him, pulling him as physically close as possible while his body convulsed, the two clinging to each other and rocking in the waves of sensation that ended just as nearly as they began. But the tingle of pleasure, the warm after feeling rang through them still, even when Onag pulled out, when both men sank towards the couch cushions with weak, nearly desperate intakes of breath, laying skin to skin as silence loomed over them. Swone kept his face buried in Onag’s chest, minutes ticking by as gloves stroked the shorter man’s back softly, fingers tracing lines from earlier and savoring the simple bit of time to have such contact without enraged retaliation. Finally, with a lingering sigh, eyes closed and breathing relaxing into a regular, gentle rhythm, Onag realized with a faint smile that Swone had fallen asleep. Just like that. Perhaps it was simply exhaustion, or a way to prolong the inevitable, but Onag was actually thankful for that. They didn’t need to do anything right now, say anything. There was going to be plenty of that in the future, but at this point it was okay just to wait, not think about it.

    “You can’t stop me from saying it every time.” Onag whispered, tipping his head just far enough forward to gently press his lips to the top of Swone’s usually well combed hair. Then, closing heavy eyelids, Onag wrapped his arms around the already slumbering Swone and finally relented to the urging want of his own body’s need for rest.


End file.
